


Easier To Run

by DGCatAniSiri



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-20 13:58:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13148133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DGCatAniSiri/pseuds/DGCatAniSiri
Summary: Fenris found running that night easier than staying.





	Easier To Run

Fenris wanted so much to remain with Hawke. He truly did. Yet he also couldn’t stay. He couldn’t. Not when he’d had those flashes, the glimpses of the life he’d had. The life that had once been his. Before he’d been a slave. Before the markings. Before... everything.

It was early morning as he made his way through the streets of Hightown back to the mansion he’d lived in. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable calling it ‘his’ mansion – he was an elf in Hightown. Despite Aveline’s interference, there was always the possibility that some of the nobility would take issue with his living there. And while Fenris could naturally handle himself in a fight, it simply would just not work out well for him. He was an elf squatting in a Hightown mansion. He expected no fairness or justice should he be taken into custody, Aveline or not.

He had pulled himself out of the embrace of a man he had come to care for. Love? Perhaps even that. And he’d walked away from him. Hawke had tried to convince him to stay, but... he couldn’t. He’d had to walk away. 

It would hurt less if he could remember anything. That’s what made it worse. He remembered REMEMBERING. He knew that he had remembered, but not what it was he had. 

It made running so much worse. 

He’d wanted to stay. But he couldn’t. If Hawke had stirred the memories once, he might do so again, but... But then it would end, and all Fenris would have would be memories of memories. He couldn’t... He couldn’t bear it once more. That would hurt as much as leaving had.

Or maybe it was an excuse. He’d felt something... something good, something strong, something that... that he desperately wanted to feel again. And he just... ran. That he’d been more afraid of the feeling of something good entering his life and staying there. 

The pain was familiar. There was comfort in that familiarity, even if it was painful. Something new was... unsettling. Hawke was able to stir up such feelings, and do so in such a casual manner, a glimpse, a touch, a word...

He wanted to run. He had run, but... further. A part of him very much wanted to simply flee Kirkwall, go... elsewhere. He could avoid these feelings forever if he simply wasn’t here to face the temptation.

He cursed himself for a coward. He couldn’t simply run from this. Even if he wouldn’t have hated himself for leaving, knowing the crises and hardships facing the people here – Aveline, Varric, Isabela... Hawke – he also knew how it would hurt Hawke.

As bad as leaving must hurt him, the fact was, Fenris couldn’t abandon him. Maker help him, he had to remain to help Hawke. Because Hawke was the center of it all. When trouble came calling, as it inevitably did, Hawke would step forward. 

It was why Fenris cared for him so. 

He would stand against all that threatened his city, because he simply wanted to keep his home, his family, his friends safe. Fenris didn’t have that.

All he truly had, when it came down to it... was Hawke. 

As he entered the mansion, he wondered if he could even say he had that. He honestly simply expected that Hawke would never see him again, would take his midnight escape as an indication that the elf wanted merely to wash his hands of him, and would return the favor. He could see how easily he would accept that.

“You fool...”

His rebuke to himself echoed in the empty halls.

***

The knocking was unexpected. Fenris roused himself from his room and made his way to the door. The distance was typically a good way to keep out unwanted visitors – his friends knew that he had no servants in the building and would have to answer it himself, so they’d wait. Those who didn’t know he lived there would assume that, the “unusual” and “exotic” markings on his skin aside, would believe him to be a servant. And those who were simply there for the sake of bothering the nobles who ‘must’ live in a Hightown mansion would be put off by the wait.

Fenris opened the door, doubting that he’d be ambushed in broad daylight, not even by the tax collectors Aveline and Isabela had promised were dealt with. 

Hawke stood there.

There was silence between the two of them, neither knowing how to start. Fenris felt a dozen things attempt to make their way out between them, and none of them managed to. He simply stared at Hawke, waiting to hear what had led him here. 

Finally, seeming to recognize that Fenris wasn’t going to be the one who opened a conversation between them, Hawke sighed. “Fenris. I was planning to explore the Wounded Coast. Aveline mentioned that there’d been some pirate activity out there. Not the Isabela kind, either. More like the ‘raping and pillaging’ kind. I... thought you might want to accompany me.” A pause. “And Aveline and Varric as well. It... wouldn’t just be us.”

Fenris was silent, unsure. He didn’t know how to react to that – Hawke wasn’t speaking of what had happened between them. He could have been happy about that, a subtle implication that Hawke was allowing them both to just sweep what had happened under the rug and let it be forgotten. But what he felt was... disappointment. He wanted Hawke to say something about it, make a confrontation happen.

“I... I would find that... agreeable.” He at least managed to say that.

Hawke gave a gentle smile at that. “Good. I’ll go... find Aveline, we’ll go to the Hanged Man together, then.” He hesitated a moment, and Fenris was certain that he’d bring up last night, speak of how he felt about Fenris simply... walking away. He could even hear the question already, and knew that he had no answer to offer...

And then Hawke looked away, turned and left. 

A breath fell out of Fenris, and he wasn’t sure what to make of that.

He looked to his wrist, seeing the red scrap of fabric he’d wrapped around it. He’d taken it from the robe Hawke had worn, a way to remember their time together. Hawke did mean something to him, whether or not he could speak it aloud.

He might not speak of what happened. Hawke might choose to simply walk away from him, like he did just now. Whatever would come next, he would respect Hawke’s choices. Whether or not they led Fenris back to him, that was not his decision.

But he could stay by Hawke’s side all the same. 

It wouldn’t be welcoming the change, but it would, perhaps, offer the chance to bring himself to the point where he would turn and face the tiger. He might not be ready yet.

But, in staying close, he would have the opportunity yet. A small step, to be sure. But it was, he supposed, a step all the same.


End file.
